Thank you dad and goodbye

I am often asked where my passion for food and wine came from and how my interest in it developed and my automatic answer has always been that it started with helping my mother in the kitchen when I was a boy, followed by heading off to university with some of my mother's recipes tucked in my bag.  In the late 1970's refectory and cafe food in the UK was nowhere near as good as it can be today so my ability to make a spaghetti bolognese or a risotto made me very popular with my fellow students.

Recently, however, I have had cause to think again about that and realise that my father was a huge influence too.  In the last ten years he had little chance to show what he could do in the kitchen as the debilitating effects of multiple sclerosis gradually eroded his mobility and eventually forced him into a wheelchair, but actually he was the one that experimented with new and exotic flavours and ever more complicated and grander dishes.  My mother cooked during the week and my father cooked at the weekend when he had the time to do so.  He travelled extensively with his job and brought back exciting food and wine discoveries which he was keen to pass on to us.

All of this is relevant because my father passed away a month ago.  It was an awful year for him.  A kidney infection brought him close to death in April.  Thereafter he was bed bound and in a lot of pain as his body slowly shut down due to the effects of the MS.  He was in and out hospital and all through the Spring and Summer I dreaded a telephone call telling me his condition had worsened again.

It was difficult living in France with my parents on Guernsey with no direct easy route between the two and clients at 42rvh and the kitchen almost every day.  The news of his passing away reached me at about 11.30am on the morning of 4th October.  I was taking a coffee with Carcassonne Kitchen clients in the Place Carnot in the middle of a buzzy market.  No matter how much one is prepared to hear bad news, it's actuality is no less shocking.  I don't know how but I managed to hold it together and finish the tour and cooking day with my clients unaware of what had happened - one of the hardest days of my life.

As Christmas approaches, there is a picture that keeps popping into my head.  It is probably 1976.  We are in the dining room in Guildford around a table laid with the best china and glasses.  The hostess trolley is keeping the vegetables warm.  My father stands at one end of the table wearing a ridiculous paper hat and holding an orange and white electric carving knife in his hand as he contemplates attacking the huge roast turkey before him.  Happy days.

Thank you dad, and goodbye x

Thank you

It has been a fabulous year for Carcassonne Kitchen, with clients from across the globe descending on Carcassonne market and the kitchen at 42rvh.

The year started on 1st March with Helen from California and finished on 28th October with Laurence and Gai from Brisbane and Mike, Jane and Sue from Alaska.

In-between there have been visitors from
South Africa
New Zealand
all over the USA and Canada (Texas, Georgia, Colorado, Boston, Chicago, Vancouver, Winnipeg, Ontario and Ottawa)
Holland
Kazhakstan via Denmark!
Germany
all over Australia (Perth, Adelaide, Canberra, Sydney, Melbourne and Cairns)
Sweden
Ireland
many many from Scotland (thank you for an interesting and varied debate throughout the year about Scottish independence)
and, of course, England.

Petra and Bruce brought their enthusiastic children - the next generation in the kitchen.

I hope the recipes have been replicated and improved by you all.  I have a vision that a hot chocolate fondant is being served somewhere in the world at all times.

Thank you all for coming and thank you for your wonderful email and trip advisor comments - they are very much appreciated. Here are a few of your lovely comments;

Thanks for the lovely day and recipes, Peter!  I will definitely be making those dishes at home.  I already promised my husband I would make the choc cake! - Helen

It was a wonderful day with you, the beautiful dog Clarky, Carcassonne in the rain, all the spectacular food - Nancy

Thanks so much Peter, for everything. A really lovely weekend and I've already made the pea and broad bean dish for a friend. - Justine

Peter, the visit with you – the market excursion, the cooking in your terrific kitchen and lunch with our men – was a highlight of the trip, no question. - Carol

Thank you for the delightful day of shopping, cooking, and conversation.  It was definitely one of the highlights of our trip. I have printed the recipes and will soon  be dazzling our friends and family with them. - Holly

We had so much fun, the meal was delicious and the company delightful. I am looking forward to using my new filleting skills. - Belinda and Ross

Domaine Jones

Deep in the heart of the Corbieres, in the village of Tuchan, Katie Jones is fomenting a fermenting revolution. In this deeply traditional corner of French viticulture, she is taking on the establishment by daring to be different.  In the process she is producing some of the tastiest, most refreshing and well balanced wines I have ever drunk and, as anyone who knows me will know, that is quite a lot of wine.

Katie worked in the marketing department of the local cave cooperative, Mont Tauch, for many years before deciding to buy her own vineyards and make her own wine.  She started very small with tiny plots of vines unwanted by bigger operations because the fields were difficult to access with machinery or the vines were getting old and producing lower yields or because the vines were not mainstream varieties or all three.  I expect the local vignerons looked upon this novice Englishwoman with amusement and no doubt a great deal of scoffing about the chances of her success.

When, in the course of just a couple of years, success followed acclaim and her wines sold out, that scoffing turned to resentment and jealousy culminating in her cave being vandalised and her entire production of 2012 Jones Blanc being lost down the drains when the taps were opened on the vats it was stored in.  No-one has ever been brought to book for this despicable act although I expect everyone in the community knows who was responsible.

Many would have thrown in the towel.  After all, farming vineyards by hand, then making and selling wine is a difficult enough job in the first place without being faced with local hostility and obstinacy. 

But there is a steely determination about Katie that should see her alright - far from giving up she has moved her operation to a more secure location, has just bottled her 2013 Blanc, has bought more plots of vines and expanded her range of wines and has ambitious plans that will continue to push her onwards and upwards.

Her inventiveness and approach to wine making are also interesting and exciting, from experimentation with different grape types (see below - maccabeu) to different fermentation techniques, maturation and storage methods.  The branding of her wines is also perfect, helping them to stand out from the crowd and getting them recognised - good branding in wine is very rare indeed.

She is ably supported by her French husband, Jean Marc, who is in the process of extracting his vineyards from the cooperative to launch his own range of wines - revolution indeed - and despite what I have said above, there are plenty of local winemakers who are 100% behind her, not to mention fabulous reviews in the UK press from writers such as Jancis Robinson.  The future is bright for Katie.

And so to the wines.  I visited Katie at her winery a few weeks ago and tasted her entire current range including her new range of pearls.

There are 3 reds - Jones Rouge, Jones Fitou and new for 2014 a 100% Syrah.
The Jones Rouge is mostly made from 80 year old Grenache Noir vines, one of my favourite grape varieties, and is a perfect complement to grilled or roast meat, especially cooked on a barbeque.
The Jones Fitou is a classic AOC blend of Carignan, Grenache and Syrah, has enormous depth and lovely balance and will definitely improve with age.
The new Jones Syrah, La Perle Rare, was a revelation.  Absolutely stupendous.  My wife, Debrah, doesn't like Syrah very much but she adores this fabulous wine which says it all really.  It's not cheap but it's worth every penny and I would buy more if I could afford it.

There are 4 whites - Jones Blanc, Jones Muscat, a new Maccabeu and an aged Grenache
The Jones Blanc is from Grenache gris grapes, another of my favourite grape varieties, is light and well balanced (as are all her wines) with lovely floral flavours.
The Jones Muscat is made from Muscat Petit Grains, is fragrant but not too sweet and makes an excellent match with Asian food.
The Maccabeu, Les Perles, is almondy and fruity but light and refreshing too.
The aged Grenache is an interesting story - made in 2009 in new oak, Katie considered it too oaky to blend and left it to one side not knowing what to do with it.  Four years later she tasted it again and it had mellowed and matured.  There was still oakiness but a lot less pronounced and better balanced with the other fruit flavours - so she bottled it and lovely it is too.

If I was to sum up Katie's wines I would say they all have fabulous balance and tremendous freshness - it goes without saying that they are all delicious and you should get your hands on some if you can, which you can do here - www.domainejones.fr/home.html

Local Asparagus

We first noticed the sign last year.

It is actually quite easy to miss it because it is on a bend immediately after a level crossing and one is concentrating on other things just at that moment.  I hate open level crossings - despite the lights and the bells and the barriers and all the modern automated technology, I still wonder if a train is going to appear from nowhere just as I start across the tracks - so I am usually just relieved and making sure I take the bend, with a junction on it, properly rather than looking at the signs stuck on posts in the ground that decorate that corner.

I think it was Debrah that noticed it first (she didn't have to concentrate on the driving, just the trains!) and as we were within the narrow window of opportunity to buy of 2 hours each early evening during the week, we made the detour.

The farm is located in the next village to ours, the village of Douzens. The next village in France can be the last place one would visit but Douzens and Moux seem to exist side by side with no great animosity, but then we are hardly immersed in local life, so probably wouldn't even know if there was a war going on between them!

The detour was well worth the effort.  We turned through an unflattering entrance into a slightly scruffy yard to find a charming stall erected in a farmyard with trays of asparagus sorted into small, medium or large and a very simple pricing structure per kilo for each.

I personally prefer the medium size as I think the fat spears can be too woody and the thin ones, well, a bit thin - but they are all delicious so each to his own.  At €5 a kilo for the medium ones I am not going to complain about anything.

I adore the rustic nature of the business, the narrow buying time, the price, the hand written sign and especially the taste of their delicious asparagus.  I hope they continue to thrive and we shall certainly continue to support them with our trade.

Artichokes and Asparagus

The new season asparagus and artichokes are in the market and the sunshine has finally returned - so salads are back in vogue and the winter vegetables will soon be forgotten for another year.

Certainly Charles and Nancy from New Mexico, and my latest market tour and cooking day clients, were wowed by their freshness and flavour last week.  Not that we had sunshine then - the market tour took place under a leaden grey drizzly sky which emitted a torrential downpour at the end of the afternoon.

The small violet artichokes are a little fiddly to prepare and one of those things that you only really get right once someone has shown you how to tackle the job, which means it is the perfect task for a cooking day.  Most people have never prepared one so it is a fun job to have a go at with a bit of supervision.  I like to cook them immediately on the day they are bought because they tend to go soft quite quickly if left.  Look for small hard artichokes with the leaves still tight.  The idea is to prepare them quickly and then you can keep them for a good few weeks in the fridge in a sterilised jar and cooking liquid used to cook them - although they rarely last a couple of days in this household!

The cooked artichoke hearts are fabulous in our superfood salad with asparagus and avocado, a wonderful combination of flavour and texture and a great vegetarian dish if you stop there and don't add the crisped cured ham which adds an additional salty crunchy texture to the vegetables.

The tender top ends of the asparagus spears were used in the salad but the lower snapped off tails of the spears were not discarded but used to make an asparagus soup - a fabulous way to make your produce go further and to reduce food waste. Wherever you have snapped your spears there will still be a good few centimetres of useable green spear that will give more than enough flavour for a simple but elegant soup and for this the thinner spears work better than the fat ones.   Discard any really wooden ends and you may also need to sieve the finished soup to remove any stringy bits.  Of course, if you buy your asparagus ready cut and packaged up from a supermarket chain you will miss out on this option as the supermarket will have already trimmed them and charged you more for the privilege!

The main course for the cooking day was a French classic - coq au vin.  I think of this as a Spring or Autumn dish because it is the lightest of the classic French casserole dishes and can be made with either a good fruity red or a dry white.  I like to marinade the chicken for 24 hours in the wine with some garlic, bay and thyme.  I use finely diced onion, celery and carrot in the cooking of the dish but cook the lardons, mushrooms and leek separately in a frying pan right at the end and add to the finished dish when serving it - this way they keep their colour and a bit of crunch and add texture to the dish rather than being cooked down to nothing in the wine.  Serve with pomme puree and the cooked down sauce drizzled over.

Here is how to prepare the artichokes.

Pull away the hard outer leaves until you reach the softer light green leaves inside. Trim off the hard tips (about halfway down the head), cut off all but 5cm of the stalk and the trim the outer layer of that remaining 5cm.  Rub the prepared artichoke all over with lemon juice to reduce discolouration.

In a pan large enough to take your artichokes, finely chop one shallot and sweat gently in a little butter and oil until softened.  Add 100ml of dry white wine and bring to the boil before immediately turning down to a simmer.  Add the artichokes and lemon juice, a bay leaf, a sprig or two of time and enough water to just cover and simmer very gently until cooked (when a sharp knife just penetrates the artichokes with ease - do not boil or overcook or they will fall apart)

Either serve immediately or leave to cool before packing into sterilised jars topped with the cooking liquor.  They will keep in the fridge for several weeks.

Cook Eat Love

Jean-Pierre Campaci

Provenance.  Traceability.  Local sourcing.  These are the 'in' words of food shopping today and they all apply to the produce of Jean-Pierre Campaci.

M Campaci is a butcher based in Les Halles, the permanent covered market in Carcassonne.  The market houses a host of butchers, 2 fishmongers, 2 cheesemongers and a bar - of course there is a bar.

M Campaci specialises in beef and veal and, to my mind, it is the best beef and veal in the market.  The beef is a deep maroon colour with creamy layers of fat running through and the veal is the sweetest rose pink - the colour itself is evidence that the beef has been well hung and given time to mature and that the veal comes from healthy young cows given the freedom of a life outdoors.

The evidence of the good provenance goes further.  He has the certificates to prove not only what breed the beef is but also the farm it came from and indeed which animal it was, who it's mum and dad were, it's star sign and it's favourite band - well, maybe not the last bit but you know what I mean in terms of knowing everything there is to know about where your food is coming from.  He even has photos of him proudly standing with his hand on the rump of his chosen animal.

All of that would mean nothing if the taste didn't live up to the promise.  I can assure you it doesn't disappoint.  I have cooked his cote de boeuf on the BBQ, his bavette on the grill, his saute de veau in a blanquette, his jarret in a daube and his osso bucco cut specially to order from veal shins - all of which were wonderful.

He makes steak hache to order from pure ground minced beef, which is often minced in front of you whilst you, and a growing queue of people, wait - but there is no tension because most of the queue are probably about to order the same and because there is a good natured banter amongst the assembled line orchestrated by M Campaci himself, who is by nature a smiling example of French bonhommie.

As well as the beef and veal, he sells some excellent lamb, also with traceability to the Montagne Noir, just to the north of Carcassonne, some pork and a range of his a la maison prepared sausages, bacon, chorizo and pre-cooked dishes such as lasagne.

In my mind he is the epitome of a good butcher, French or otherwise.  He engages his customers in conversation, he wants to know how you are going to cook his produce and is always forthcoming with his suggestions for the cut you need and the cooking time.

Finally, he always welcomes my market tour clients and offers them a tasting of something - a piece of saussicon - no matter how busy he is, and for that I am very grateful.

PS.  Order 4 steak hache and he will give you 4 more gratuit - now that is a bargain.

Chateau La Baronne

When we first moved to our new house in Moux our focus was fully on the refurbishment needed to make the house habitable to the standard we wanted - not an easy or quick job.  When we finally got our heads above the parapet we started to explore our new surroundings - and our new surroundings, our village, contain a wine estate of undoubted quality.

Chateau La Baronne is owned by the Ligneres family, a family of doctors, pharmacists and winemakers. We all know that wine is made with care and love and chemistry so perhaps they know a thing or too, but there are no pharmaceuticals involved because La Baronne is a certified bio-dynamic wine estate which means not only totally organic but also in tune with the phases of the moon. That means bottling, harvesting and pruning on a fruit day or flower day as best befits the activity.

The wines are not the cheapest you will find in the region but they are cheap compared to their equals in the rest of France and the wider world - what is undoubted is that they are delicious and extremely well made.

The grapes, both white and red, are classic Languedoc varieties.  Rousanne, Grenache Blanc, Bouboulenc and Vermentino blends for the whites and Grenache Noir, Carignan, Mourvedre and Syrah for the reds.

The family favourite is the Carignan and they are 'constantly striving to heighten the expression, finesse and elegance of this emblematic variety of the region' (a quotation from the estate website).  The top wine of the estate is Piece de Roche - a 100% Carignan made from vines planted in 1892.  These were some of the first new vines planted on American rootstock after the phylloxera crisis at the end of the 19th century wiped out the vineyards of Europe.

I find it amazing that I can drink wine made from grapes grown on vines planted so long ago. They don't actually know how long these vines will keep on producing grapes of high quality because there aren't any vines older than this in France - it will be an ongoing adventure and one I hope to keep pace with.

In one of the barns at the estate is this beautiful old 'camion'.  It was used to deliver barrels of wine to clients in the early part of the 20th century.  It replaced the old horse and cart and represented the future back in the 1920's.  Now it just gathers dust, but it has lost none of it's charm and I adore that they have kept hold of it even though it now has no practical use.  It is part of their history, part of their heritage.

The estate isn't set up for visitors but that doesn't mean you wouldn't be welcomed and given the chance to taste these fabulous wines.  I would suggest a call in advance to make sure they know you are coming (English spoken).

http://www.chateaulabaronne.com/index.php

Bacon

Home curing, home smoking, making your own sausages - it's all the rage at the moment.  You can't turn on the TV, open a blog or a cook book without coming across an article about doing it yourself.  I am no exception.

Since moving to France I have made jam, compote and granola for the 42rvh breakfast table, made tomato sauce and pickled vegetables and cured my own olives - all from the excess of local production at the end of each growing season.  I have also successfully cured salmon using wild fennel picked from the countryside where I walk my dog.

But I have never tried curing meat - until now, and it is a lot easier than you probably think it is.  It came about due to various circumstances falling into place - a fabulous book on 'doing it yourself' which my lovely wife, Debrah, bought for my last birthday, an offer on pork belly at a local supermarket which resulted in 2kg of pork for only €12 and a bit of time on my hands in the off-season.

I cut the belly into 4 manageable pieces of half a kilo each.  We roasted one that evening for dinner, I froze one for later, I minced one to use in meatballs and I decided to have a go at making bacon with the last one.

The beauty of curing a relatively small piece of meat is that you can do the whole thing quite easily in a domestic fridge with little or no mess and no difficulty and the only other ingredients you need are salt, sugar and herbs.  I used a standard domestic freezer bag with a resealable top into which the meat would fit quite snugly.  I added my salt, sugar and chopped herb mix, sealed the top and rubbed the mixture all over the pork in the bag.  I then put it in a shallow bowl and popped it in the fridge.

Over the course of a week I turned it over every day and what started as a dry cure mix became a wet cure as the salt did it's job of drawing the moisture out of the meat.

After a week the curing is done.  Take the meat out of the bag and wash it thoroughly, then pat dry.  Make a hole in one corner with a skewer and with kitchen string make a loop to hang the meat, then hang it in a cool, airy place for a couple of days to firm up before wrapping it in greaseproof paper to store in the fridge for up to a month.

I was thrilled with the outcome.  Next, I need to make a smoker!


Notes;
For 500g of meat I used 110g of sea salt, 70g of brown sugar and 5 sprigs of rosemary.
Profesional curers use nitrates in the mix which helps to keep the pink colour in the meat but it is not essential.  It is available online from good suppliers.
Slice as thinly as possible and fry as bacon or cut into cubes and use as lardons.

Colonial Influences

A recent trip to Marrakech got me thinking about the influence of French food culture on it's former colonies and vice versa.

I was in fact surprised how little French influence there appeared to be on Moroccan food.  There are French restaurants of course, but then there are French restaurants everywhere.  However, everyday fare appeared to be predominantly Arabic.

I took a food market tour with a local guide (similar to the market tour and cooking day that I offer in Carcassonne, minus the cooking bit).  It was a fascinating three hours that covered all aspects of the local food culture and how it has been influenced by religion and outside invasion.  I would have to conclude that the Moors left a far greater legacy than the French.

My guide took me deep into the souks to places I wouldn't have ventured on my own.  We visited spice stores, pastry shops, olive and nut sellers, a local meat and fish market and a communal bread oven before finishing in the main square.

The etiquette of the making and drinking of mint tea was explained (heavily sugared and known as Moroccan whisky because of it's addictiveness - Moroccans have very bad teeth as a result).  I sampled harira (a staple soup), prickly pear from a street vendor, a snail stew also from a street vendor, a beef tangia (eaten by hand using bread as a spoon) as well as the olives and pastry and nuts.  The meat market had live chickens and rabbits which are slaughtered to order by the butchers - you can't get fresher than that.!

The tour finished in the crazy main square, Jemaa el Fna, an incredible nightly circus of market stalls selling everything from orange juice to sheep's head stew, from carpets to slippers to fake watches and bags, whilst snake charmers and henna painters vie for passing tourist business and touts try to persuade you into every small bar and cafe.  Wonderful, fascinating and slightly intimidating.

I know that in Vietnam (formerly Indochine) the baguette has become as much of a staple of the daily life there as it is in France - but I didn't see one single baguette during my week in Morocco.

The most famous dish of North Africa is of course the tagine (not to be confused with tangia) and it is interesting that North African food culture has made greater inroads into French cuisine than the other way around.  Tagine and couscous are very much everyday foods in France.  There is now a large Arabic population living in France - coming from Morocco, Tunisia and Algeria (a million French citizens moved back to mainland France from Algeria after independence there) so it is hardly surprising that they have brought with them their food.

I adore tagine.  It's subtle flavouring of spices is in marked contrast to British colonial food from Asia and the Caribbean.  A chicken tagine made with green olives and preserved lemon is a thing of beauty and incredibly simple to make.  This is the recipe I usually follow (courtesy of Winter on the Farm by Matthew Evans)

serves 4
4 chicken legs
2 large onions, diced
4 garlic cloves, crushed
1 cinnamon stick
1/4 tsp ground cumin
1/4 tsp ground coriander
12 green olives
1 quince, peeled, cored and chopped
1/4 rind preserved lemon
olive oil

Preheat the oven to 160C
Heat the oil in a large casserole over a medium heat.  Brown the chicken on both sides and remove.
In the same dish cook the onion for 6-8 minutes until lightly caramelised then stir in the garlic and cook for a further minute.
Reduce the heat to low, add the cinnamon, cumin and coriander and cook stirring for one minute.
Add 250ml water to the dish, scrape up any bits from the bottom of the dish and add the chicken.
Add the olives and quince, cover and bake in the oven for about 90 minutes until the quince and chicken are tender.
Add the lemon, season with salt and pepper to taste and cook for a further 10 minutes with the lid off.
Serve immediately with rice or couscous.

The quince gives this tagine a wonderful sweet fragrant flavour but I know that it not always available for everyone.  You could use dried apricots instead but I find their flavour a little too strong and overpowering for the subtlety of the rest of the dish.  Fennel is a good addition as an extra vegetable and a good sprinkling of chopped coriander over the finished dish will not go amiss.